


I won't just survive / Oh, you will see me thrive

by Splat_Dragon



Series: Evan, also known as "This is a Bad Idea(TM)" [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Caretaking, Developing Relationship, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I loved that cinematic, Infection, Lem is adorable, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sick Character, Sickfic, Slow Burn, This mission could have gone so wrong, Watch me flood Lem's tag, and now it does, graphic depictions of injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23937745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splat_Dragon/pseuds/Splat_Dragon
Summary: When he’d seen Evan go flying off her feet, Lem had been sure he’d killed her.Lem had been lucky. The shockwave had struck him, knocked the breath from his lungs and sent him staggering back, but he'd managed to catch himself before he could set himself aflame. The chaos had stunned him, but Evan had been by his side, elbow brushing against his where her own captor had clutched her, and so it had been impossible for him not to see her as her feet left the ground, as she went horribly limp, as she struck the ground and didn't get back up.
Series: Evan, also known as "This is a Bad Idea(TM)" [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1479893
Kudos: 1





	1. When, when the fire's at my feet again

###  _I won't just survive_  
 _Oh, you will see me thrive_  
~Rise, Katy Perry

###  _When, when the fire's at my feet again_  
~Rise, Katy Perry

When he’d seen Evan go flying off her feet, Lem had been sure he’d killed her.

He hadn't meant to set off the kero-shine, really, he hadn't. But then Hixon had asked after Aunt Maggie, after the old woman he'd tried to burn to death in cold blood, and he'd snapped. Grabbed that man's gun and fired, discovered at just the wrong moment that he and Marcel had made the kero-shine far too volatile, setting all of the area aflame, not just the ring of fire as they'd planned.

Lem had been lucky. The shockwave had struck him, knocked the breath from his lungs and sent him staggering back, but he'd managed to catch himself before he could set himself aflame. The chaos had stunned him, but Evan had been by his side, elbow brushing against his where her own captor had clutched her, and so it had been impossible for him _not_ to see her as her feet left the ground, as she went horribly limp, as she struck the ground and _didn't get back up_.

He hadn't even been able to tell if she'd landed in the flames. If she was going to burn, burn as he'd thought his Aunt Maggie had, burn and burn and burn and turn to ash. Burn as he could hear the Agents doing, screaming and screaming and _screaming_ , collapsing to the ground as they died, convulsing and screaming and screaming and _screaming_ , but she was still, wasn't moving, wasn't _screaming_ , and he'd thought her dead.

  
  


He'd rushed to her, as fast as he could with his legs shaking, adrenaline trembling through him, choking and coughing on the smoke and ash in the air, eyes burning and watering 'til she was only a blurred silhouette, one that was, thank _god_ , beginning to move as he dropped to a knee next to her, words spilling from his lips without his bidding, flooding out like water from a cracked dam, panicked and high pitched even as he choked on the ash and smoke that strangled his lungs.

"Hey, are you alright?" and her eyes had blinked open, or at least he thought they had, the light had gleamed off something in her silhouette, but he could barely make out her much less her features, "Shit, I'm sorry," he'd tried to help her up, feeling her move against him, lurching and shaking, coughing rattling her lungs, and for once she'd allowed him, not pulling away from his touch, "I'm sorry, I snapped... I-I didn't know what else to do," and he hadn't, really, he hadn't.

She'd gotten them out of some truly _horrible_ scrapes before, scrapes where they'd been outnumbered one-hundred-to-one, fought off an entire train full of Agents while they were sitting ducks inside of a boat, but always while free, able to move and duck and dance, and yes, that was the only word that came to mind when he watched her fight. It wasn't fighting, it was dancing, in the way she whirled, the way she slipped and ducked and spun, the movements as natural as breathing. Never bound, held back, unable to reach her gun.

He'd panicked, seen red at Hixon's words, grabbed for that man's gun and, as he always seemed to, messed it all up.

She pushed him away once she was on her knees, standing as he did the same, staggering hard enough that her shoulder slammed into his and nearly sent him reeling, and he looked around, taking in the people screaming and collapsing and bolting for cover, "Hixon and Danny-Lee, they went that way," he gestured, the top of her silhouette moving to follow, "Go after Hixon first, Danny-Lee, he-he's in a bad way, he won't get far!" Evan shoved at his shoulder, pushing him in the opposite direction before bolting towards Hixon, and he did as he was bid—he wanted to help, _desperately_ , but he'd just be in the way. Though she hadn't intended him to, he'd heard Aunt Maggie ask her to protect him ("You watch him for me," she'd said, "he's uh, well, he ain't you.") and didn't intend on letting her get shot because she was distracted keeping an eye on him.

  
  


They'd had a meeting place decided on, just in case, and so he rabbited for it, coughing and rubbing his eyes all the while. Their horses had fled from the explosion, and he couldn't fault them in the least, and she had lent him one of her better-natured horses to ride in case anything happened, a flaxen Walker, so once he felt it was safe he started to whistle, that sharp one, three in a row, each of a certain inflection, that she’d taken the time to teach him, and the horse hurried up to him, eyes wide and throwing her head, but she allowed him to mount her all the same and kick her into a gallop, sprinting for the rotted out, abandoned cabin she’d scouted out ahead of time as a meet-up place.

  
  


Once he was there, he remained mounted up on Rowan, ready to bolt if the Raiders or the Agents sniffed him out. Even so far away, he could see the orange glow of the flames, hear screaming and the sharp crack of gunshots, and took some solace in that it meant she was still breathing, still alive and fighting.

But he was alone with only a horse and his thoughts, and while Rowan was a nice enough horse she wasn't very good company. And so his thoughts went to Danny-Lee, the snake of a man that had looked him in the eye and ran, leaving him to think his Aunt had been burned alive for well-gone a year. He should have felt gleeful in that the man’s leg had been destroyed, that he’d seen him go flying in a spray of blood.

But instead, Lem felt numb.

He’d only been young when he’d met the man, only a teenager, and they’d worked together, he and Danny-Lee and Marcel and Aunt Maggie, for six years. Lem had patched the man up a fair few times, and the man had done the same. He’d trusted Danny-Lee with his life, and Danny-Lee had trusted him with his, too. And here he was, now, celebrating that he was crippled, mangled, near-dying.

How, after six years, had Danny-Lee been able to just stand aside and watch as his Aunt, the man’s friend, was trussed up like a pig for slaughter, hands bound behind her so she hadn’t the faintest chance of escape, before being thrown into their burning cabin. How had he been able to look him in the eye before running away?

Damn the man, _damn him_ , and damn himself for being unable to hate him.

Even Aunt Maggie had admitted that she didn’t know how she had survived. How she had managed to find that one safe space to crawl under such that she suffered only burns, so that she hadn’t burned to death. And he was grateful for it, of course he was, but it was _too close_ and knowing that Evan was amidst all those flames now terrified him, had Rowan stamping her feet beneath him as she sensed his unease.

But, as he always was, if he went there he’d be little more than a liability, so he could do little more than pat Rowan on the neck and wait.

  
  


There was a sudden, final crack of a gunshot, and it was _quiet_.

The gunfire had been easing, lessening, but the end still chilled him, had him startling enough that he pulled on Rowan’s reins, the soft-mouthed mare rearing, and he had to spin her in a circle to keep her from bucking him, apologizing and cooing love-words to soothe her.

He moved his gun to set it in his lap, turning to watch the road, his heart almost impossibly loud in his ears. That—was it Evan? A Revenue Agent? A Raider? But, no, a man on a sorry scrap of a gelding trotted by, unaware that he was being watched.

The longer he waited, the more he twitched, the uneasier he became. He began to think of riding back to see what had happened to her, though he knew she’d be _furious_ , she’d made it very clear in her own way that he was to keep himself out of danger and that if he was bid to run he was not to look back, and when she’d shoved his shoulder that had been as good as if she’d roared **_“GO!”_ **

A horse approached, a familiar, heavy-footed one-two beat, and he perked up even as he drew his gun to be safe. He knew that horse’s gait like the back of his hand, not because he liked it but because he hated the beast, just as he was certain the beast hated anyone but her, the Ardennes was a monster who’d take a chunk out of you as soon as breathe, and she’d once ‘told’ him that that was why she’d gotten him for so cheap, gotten him at all, he was going to be shot if she hadn’t because they couldn’t sell him on account of being so vicious, and she could see potential in him. At least, that’s what he was pretty sure she was saying, all of it had been said through drawings and he’d never been much good at charades though, with how much time he’d been spending with her, he was getting better.

  
  


Cocking his gun, he raised it as the lumbering horse trotted towards him, only to lower it with a relieved sigh when the woman sitting atop him raised her hands in a fumbling Seven, allowing them to thump back onto Cassim’s thick neck. “Did-did you get him?” he asked, and could barely make out a nod, realizing that at some point she’d lost her hat.

She nodded, turning Cassim so he could see Danny-Lee, hogtied and lashed down to her horse like little more than a deer she was bringing back to cook, limp and—“Is he dead?” but no, he wasn’t, she shook her head, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. It’d be a hell of a lot easier if he was, but Aunt Maggie wanted him alive, and though the man had done them wrong he’d been practically family.

“Alright,” Lem took a deep breath, pointedly _not_ looking at Danny-Lee as he nudged Rowan to follow Cassim, the mare whickering a greeting to the gelding, and he held his gun in hand as he moved onto the road, well-aware of how out in the open they were, keeping his eyes and ears out for any lawmen, Revenue Agents, or Raiders—

a thump behind him.

He was off his horse and running to her before he’d even fully registered Evan, limp and unmoving, on the ground.


	2. They're whispering, you're out of time

###  _They're whispering, you're out of time_  
~Rise, Katy Perry

For the second time that night, Lem thought Evan was dead.

The way she’d toppled off of Cassim’s back, the way she laid on the ground, could only ever be accidental. Slipped from the saddle like a marionette with its strings cut, sprawled across the ground like a child’s dropped doll.

Danny-Lee had gone from his mind as he’d bolted to her side—the man could have freed himself and bolted away for all he’d noticed—dropping to his knees. Even in the dark, he could make out the dirt turning black around her and, thank god, the wheezing rasping of her breathing. Lem reached out, feared hurting her further, pulled his hand back and found it bloodied, his stomach churning.

_‘She needs a doctor.’_

And she did. Desperately. He could tell that even without being able to see her clearly. But he couldn’t risk it, Hixon would surely have put any doctors nearby on alert, and getting them both arrested wouldn’t do her any good. He feared moving her, feared worsening her wounds, didn’t know if there was anything wrong inside of her, but leaving her here on the ground wouldn’t help her either.

The greater of two evils and all that, so he slipped an arm under her shoulder, another under her knees, picked her up as carefully as he could but still she groaned, tensing, and he apologized over and over as he carried her over to Rowan—he’d rather they both ride Cassim, he was much larger and sturdier than the Walker, but Cassim despised him and would sooner kick him clear to Saint Denis, and besides he’d have to untie and move Danny-Lee and he was in a hurry—carefully pulling her up in front of him as he mounted the mare, whistling for Cassim and praying the gelding would listen.

For once, it did, trotting up to him, and he slammed the butt of the rifle on the mare’s saddle against the struggling Danny-Lee’s head hard enough that he went limp, before grabbing the horse’s reins and tying them to Rowan’s saddlehorn, not wanting to worry about the man or the horse, already having Evan to fuss over. He wrapped his arm around her, blanched when he felt something shift, adjusted his grip, before grabbing the mare’s reins and kicking her into a trot, wanting to gallop but not wanting to take Cassim by alarm and break Rowan’s neck. Only once Cassim was moving at their side did he kick her into a gallop, sprinting for home, praying to a god he didn’t believe in and taking what solace he could in the rise and fall of her chest against his arm.

Their shack was in the Grizzlies, though, so far from Lemoyne, that he feared it would be long stopped when he made it home.


	3. Not a Chapter

Just giving y'all a head's up! I'll be pulling all my Evan content down soon - it'll be rewritten and then re-uploaded onto my side-account [splatxdragonsmut](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876702) that is used for my more 'adult' content. Considering the direction some of my WIPs for this 'series' is going, I feel more comfortable moving it to that account.

I'll be pulling this note down soon, as well as the Evan series! I hope y'all enjoy them <3 


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